


Erik loves muffins

by tahariel



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Belly Rubs, Blindfolds, Blow Jobs, Erik loves muffintops, M/M, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-27
Updated: 2012-02-27
Packaged: 2017-10-31 20:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/348004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tahariel/pseuds/tahariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Erik is quite willing to exhaust Charles if it means he gets to do what he wants after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Erik loves muffins

**Author's Note:**

  * For [KaeKae](https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaeKae/gifts).



There’s sleek hair under his hands, shifting between his fingers deliciously, and Charles laughs as Erik rubs his nose against the hollow at the base of his throat, tilting his head back to give him better access. “Too high,” he says, tightening his grip and pushing pointedly downwards. “Too high by far.”

He can feel Erik’s smirk against his skin as those narrow lips twitch back, his words almost like kisses against his collarbone. “Am I getting warmer?”

“Positively frosty yet, darling,” and Charles only just muffles a surprised yip when Erik bites down gently at the flesh of his chest, above his heart, wet and sharply pleasurable. “Hey, no damaging the merchandise.”

The smirk widens. “You’re very bossy for a man wearing a blindfold,” Erik says, releasing his hold to lick at the skin where it’s tender from the bite. “How about now?” And he shifts down to lave the swollen nub of Charles’ left nipple with his tongue, pressing down hard and then biting at that, too, until Charles has no choice but to arch into the contact, pressing up against Erik’s mouth with a soft cry.

The bedroom is warm and dry against his bare skin, the blankets a broad plain of folds under his back where they’ve rucked up from their movements. Erik himself smells of worn-down aftershave leftover from the morning and healthy sweat from his run earlier, a scent Charles had long since acclimatised to until he was given no chance to hide it behind the sight of Erik’s beloved face and was forced to concentrate on other senses. Now it is almost all-encompassing, like a cloud of _lust_ and _familiar_ and _sex_ and _home._

He pushes down more insistently on Erik’s head, laughing breathlessly. “Cold, ever so cold, love. Try again.”

A series of lewd, smacking kisses then down each rib, chapped lips rubbing firm against him and leaving wet on his skin that chills immediately. He shivers as Erik’s hands trail further down his spread thighs, stroking down the hair and making the skin tingle there, too, oversensitive; then there’s a hot strong tongue delving his navel, and Charles shrieks, curling his fingers against Erik’s scalp and making him groan and push up into the touch. Erik’s always liked having his head stroked and scratched, and his hands clench tight around the muscle of Charles’ thighs, digging in in a way that is wholly pleasurable. “Getting… warmer,” Charles manages, trying not to laugh and twisting his head against the sheets, which only pulls the blindfold to slide silkily against his skin but does not pull it loose, just brushes it across his closed eyelids like the caress of a bird’s wing, the knot digging in behind his ear.

“Clearly I need more practice in navigation,” Erik rumbles from somewhere around Charles’ right hip, then bites down there, where the bone is closer to the skin. “You’ll have to be patient with me, Professor.” And he lifts his hands from Charles’ thighs to press them into the folds between his groin and his legs, holding him down. “Is this where you meant? Because this is where I was going,” he adds, and rubs his face into the soft expanse of Charles’ belly.

“Oh - oh, no, stop it - stop - ” Charles gasps, laughing, because it tickles when Erik turns his face to scrape his half-day’s worth of stubble across the tender skin. He can feel himself flushing bright red under the edges of the blindfold, hot and embarrassed. “Oh, will you stop bringing attention to my blubber layer, Erik, can we please - ”

“You’re hardly a whale, Charles. And I like it here.” One of Erik’s hands loosens from his hip and comes up to stroke over the skin where his mouth has just been, cupping Charles where he’s carrying the weight of a decade in academia. “I could spend all day here.”

“Please don’t,” Charles says, and pushes down on Erik’s head again, grips harder when Erik tries to drag himself free. “You’re still only warm, love, there’s somewhere warmer you could be going - ”

“I’ll be seeing you later,” Erik says, presumably to Charles’ belly, and nips at it once more before giving in and sliding further south, where he pauses. Charles can practically hear the smirk. “Am I getting warmer?”

Charles growls in frustration and jerks his hips up, the neglected jut of his cock smacking Erik on the cheek and smearing wetly against him. “You know full well what I want, you horrible - _urk_ -”

Erik hums with smugness as he licks at the swollen head of Charles’ cock again, dipping the very tip of his tongue into the sensitive slit and scooping up the leaking pre-come with every sound of enjoyment. His hands have migrated back to Charles’ hips, calluses holding tight against the skin and pinning him down to the firm mattress. “Am I getting warmer?” he asks, and laughs when Charles shoves him down again, drags his tongue up the underside to make Charles moan a full octave lower than his usual speaking voice. It feels - so - good. It’s so hard not to reach out with his mind to force Erik onto his dripping prick, to get him to take it in properly, though Charles isn’t complaining, exactly, about the way he’s mouthing at Charles’ balls, leaving wet trails across the places where they connect to the base of his cock, then working his way back up in gentle mouthing hops until he can trace a line just under the foreskin, flicking at Charles’ frenulum and making him groan and jerk, toes curling. 

Little jolts and volts of electricity are tripping their way up Charles’ spine, making him twitch and writhe under Erik’s easy grip. The ease with which he holds Charles still, without any sign of effort, is arousing, has always been arousing, but not as much as the way he _lets_ Charles push his head down, this man who bends for nobody bending his head when Charles begs, to close his lips around Charles’ swollen cock and suck at the head with a hum of his own pleasure.

It’s like taming a tiger, and getting it to purr when you pet it, Charles thinks nonsensically, and then Erik slides his mouth further down and hums louder, vibrations rocketing through Charles’ cock and making him cry out and thrust up ineffectively against Erik’s hands holding him down, and between the two things he comes like a rocket, shooting into Erik’s waiting mouth without so much as a chance to warn him, blinded for a moment while his nervous system overloads with pleasure.

When Erik tugs off the blindfold and looks down at him the smug git is licking white trails from his chin with a pink tongue and smirking, blue eyes creased with mirth. “Hot enough for you, then?”

“You’re - terrible,” Charles pants, and is too limp to stop Erik from going back to his belly and molesting it as much as he pleases.


End file.
